Stephen Anderson & Don Hall’s Winnie the Pooh

Winnie smells Oscar blood. He smells it like a wounded animal. Or a botched diaper someone forgot to lock in the steel, bear-proof drum. He smells that Oscar diaper. And it is pungent. It is as though its owner ate nothing but KFC extra-diarrhea hot for a month, then pulled a Lisa Nowak, driving across country, saving up her radioactive diarrhea in a single, panty-shaped Tupperware stinking with jealousy and mental illness. Winnie has an incredibly keen sensibility for fortune arriving around the corner. He is practically a fortune teller of diaper contents and Oscar nominations.

Winnie transformed his body for this role. Formerly a chiseled, 7-foot-high, stage-racing bicyclist – he spent two years on the Dungeons & Dragons circuit to perfect the sallow complexion, gnarled teeth, and the flabby, unappealing physique. He removed twenty-six bones from his legs and lower torso and crushed the digits in his hands until they resembled webbed, hand-like patties. He reviewed hundreds of other films portraying diverse species of retard such as I Am Sam, Forrest Gump, Of Mice and Men, Rain Man, Billy Madison, and pretty much anything involving Jack Black.

He is a perfect embodiment of the original Pooh-bear (the original-original having died of diabetes during the 1980s). But he is actually cold and ambitious on the inside. Despite the frumpy and child-like exterior, he is a soulless and carnivorous beast. He wants that Oscar. He is willing to kill people for it (including Piglet). He is willing to do blowjobs. He is willing to sneak into your house wearing a ski mask and steal your most beloved stuffed animal. Then collage a ransom note using various unidentifiable magazines and include it with a Polaroid of your stuffed animal crying and holding up the daily paper. His ambition makes for a bold and gritty performance. Every emotional tenor is struck to perfection – sadness, happy, empty belly. He transforms into the epitome of faithful, selfless friend. No easy feat for a man with no friends, caring for no person, and living in Superman’s ice castle.

I say he deserves the Oscar. And I’m not just saying so because he stole my Tickle Me Elmo and has been mailing me his red fluff for a week. I’m saying that because it’s the gosh-damn truth. No one could embody more Pooh than this Pooh. He is the lord of the Pooh order. Also some very sweet and pretty songs by the lovely wife of the guy from Death Cab for Cutie . . . $7

If you heart Winnie the Pooh:

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Ponyo
The Adventures of Milo and Otis
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